


Just to Clarify

by mariana_oconnor



Series: Tumblr fic [11]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Coming Out, Inappropriate touching, M/M, Possessive Bucky Barnes, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-22 23:56:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23002447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariana_oconnor/pseuds/mariana_oconnor
Summary: Bucky is fed up of Clint's adoring fans pawing all over him, but with their relationship a secret, it's not like he can do anything about it, is it?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton
Series: Tumblr fic [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/952233
Comments: 9
Kudos: 163





	Just to Clarify

Bucky knows the dog and pony show. He'd played it back with Steve. They’d set the cameras rolling and say ‘stand over there and look heroic’ or some such shit. And Steve and he’d humour them, because the propaganda was as much part of the job as the bit where they shot Nazis, and the two things had a symbiotic relationship. The more publicity, the more money, the more money, the more tech they got thrown at them, the more Nazis they could shoot, the more publicity they got. On and on in an endless circle.

But the twenty-first century, with its 24/7 screens and streaming news, its social media, its camera phones, its constant barrage of information-in, information-out. It’s a slaughterhouse for facts and it’s like being in Hydra’s care all over again, windows in every wall, watched over, prodded, poked, tested again and again and again.

The breathing exercises aren’t really cutting it any more, and he’s tried - is trying - to think of something else, anything other than the crowd of people and the flashing, flashing lights of the cameras, and that goddamn fake camera noise that all the phones emit.

It will all be fine. Fucking fine. He’s checking the sightlines, keeping alert for people hiding in the crowd. All it would take was one guy with a pressure syringe and…

Clint is egging them on, though. Doesn’t seem to realise the vulnerability of his position. He’s got a huge grin on his face and he’s leaning in for selfies. That hand on his shoulder could be transferring a contact poison, that camera phone could be scanning his irises. That hand on his ass-

Deep. Fucking. Breaths.

They’ve been subtle, a bit because that’s just how they are, a bit because Bucky likes to carefully ration his identity to the world. There’s also just the fact that he’s not… really sure where this thing is going yet. They have fun. They have sex - sex that started out acrobatic and explosive and has more recently simmered down to this low, smouldering slow-burn. The sort of sex where Bucky sometimes opens his mouth to say things, then swallows them back again. The sort of sex where he thinks the words might already have been said, in touches and glances and holding Clint’s gaze as they bury themselves in each other.

But the rest of the world - with the exclusion of Natasha, who knows everything; Steve, who knows Bucky; and The Vision, who should know better than to walk through fucking walls - doesn’t know.

So it’s not like Bucky can say anything about that middle-aged lady’s hand groping at Clint’s ass.

Or that twenty-something pressing her breasts up against his arm and kissing him on the cheek as she snaps another selfie.

It’s not like he has any right to walk over there and yank Clint away. Even if they were together in a definite sort of way, Bucky wouldn’t have that right. He knows there’s nothing going on there, knows it’s just opportunistic people taking their opportunities.

But he wants to.

A pretty-eyed young man leans out of the crowd and - it’s not even an inappropriate touch, on the surface, it’s just a graze of his hand over Clint’s bicep, but there’s a quality to it, a possessive, taking sort of motion - Bucky snaps.

He’s been reliably informed by Tony Stark that he walks like a terminator over a field of human skulls, it’s not a conscious decision. Spider-man likes to call it the stride of impending doom, or something. It’s really not intentional. It’s just how he walks.

Clint sees him coming, of course he sees him coming, and Bucky can see the thoughts flitting behind his eyes. First there’s a momentary reaction of lust that he can’t control, then there’s a flash of fear that Bucky’s angry, then there’s confusion.

And then Bucky’s there, standing right beside Clint, and wrapping an arm over his shoulders, rubbing the tips of his fingers over Clint’s bicep, and if that happens to be exactly where pretty-eyes touched him, then fuck yes that’s on purpose. Clint’s looking at the side of his face, eyes wide, like he’s not sure what’s happening. His face is still a bit flushed from running around fighting alien mice, or whatever they were, and the sweat has darkened his hair, stuck it to his temples in little curling question marks.

His mouth is parted, and Bucky is reminded, intimately of the last time he saw Clint sweaty and red-faced, mouth open like that, right on top of him, and Bucky's own mouth opens without him meaning it to. He doesn’t even know what he’s going to say until he’s saying it.

“Hope you guys don’t mind if I borrow my fella, do you?” he asks, sweeping his eyes around like machine gun fire. “But we were kinda in the middle of something before we got called out.”

Clint is gaping, open-shut like a fish. The crowd are gaping, and Bucky thinks that maybe this was a bad idea, but he didn’t get where he is today without indulging a bad idea or two (maybe he should look into that).

He leans in a little, whispers in Clint’s ear. It probably looks like he’s saying something filthy. He smirks a bit at the idea.

“You wanna do this?” he asks in Clint’s ear. Then he pulls back, waits to see what Clint does. Is he going to pass it off as a joke or is he going to run straight in with Bucky.

Clint’s grin is lop-sided, tired, and brilliant. There’s still that blur of dumbfounded around the edges, but Bucky has to swallow a little against the sheer joy he can see staring back at him.

Clint, as always, doesn’t just run in, he jumps right off the fucking cliff, hooking his own arm round Bucky’s waist and pulling him in so their lips bump together in a clumsy, familiar kiss that deepens for a second before they pull back, noses brushing as they just stare at each other.

“I can’t believe you just did that,” Clint says. Bucky shrugs. He can’t believe it either, really. He’s about to reply when he feels something land on his ass and he looks down to see a hand, reaching out of the crowd. Clint follows his gaze and laughs, an infectious little giggle, before pulling Bucky away a little and sliding his own hand down to hook his thumb into Bucky’s belt, the rest of his fingers hanging down. He turns to the crowd, pulling Bucky around with him

“Sorry guys, that’s all mine.”

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr: https://mariana-oconnor.tumblr.com/post/182550794111/untitled-winterhawk-ficlet


End file.
